Page 12 of Wants and Needs
For the life of me, I can’t figure out what he’s thinking, though. He stares at me with a tilt to his head. I can’t blame him for his reaction to me at the airport. I understand perfectly well how protective older brothers can be, I’ve seen it firsthand with a bunch of my friends.
But ever since I got here he hasn’t said a word, he’s just been staring impassively at me, and I can’t figure out if that’s good or not.
“Sure,” I finally answer Sam—and honestly having Samantha Sawyer ask me to call her Sam is a life highlight for sure. “My father worked for a consulting firm,” I start out while I put the napkin on my lap. “And my mother was an opera singer.”
“That’s amazing,” Sam says, and I can tell she means it.
“She was,” I agree wholeheartedly. “She performed with the London Opera for many years.”
“Was your mother Sana Din?” Liam asks, finally speaking and drawing my eyes back to him. This time it’s easy to interpret his expression—pure awe.
“She was,” I answer in a low voice, but there’s emotion in my words, which is something I was hoping to avoid.
Bloody hell, get your shit together,I tell myself.
Without meaning to, I press my left thumb to my right palm, focusing on that instead of the ball that appeared suddenly in my throat. But I make myself keep looking at Liam, even while he won’t quite meet my eyes. He’s looking in my direction, but I canfeelthat he’s not making direct eye contact.
“That was Mum,” I whisper, hoping to fill the once again awkward silence—some dinner guest I am. Jesus.
“I love her voice,” Liam says vehemently, and his eyes shift to mine just for a fraction of a second. I see the caramel in the center of his irises, surrounded by that brilliant blue. They really are striking. “And I got to meet her once when she came to give a visiting workshop on opera for the singers’ class at Juilliard.”
“You studied at Juilliard?” I ask, seriously impressed now, though I have no idea what I thought he did for a living. But now that I think about it, being the son—and he was the only son for many years—of two musicians as successful as his parents, that makes perfect sense.
Liam’s eyes aren’t even close to me then, though. He focuses firmly on the roast being carved by his father as he nods.
“Piano and sound production,” Ed pipes up, with his mouth twisted in a concentrated grimace, but the pride rings true in his words.
“Wow,” is all I can say. I don’t know a lot about the music industry, and less still about Juilliard, but I know it can’t be easy to get in, let alone to study two different subjects.
“Okay, that’s enough of that,” London pipes up. “Let’s getback to where we left off on the plane. Is Rupert Cardew really your best friend?” she asks while she hands her plate to her father.
“He’s one of them,” I confirm with a nod, and the soft smile as I look at her is inevitable. She clearly cares more about lords than athletes. “I hadn’t seen him since we graduated school—high school you would say here—but we’ve known each other since we were eight, so we picked right up where we left off when we bumped into each other.”
It’swayeasier talking about Ru and any of my friends than it is to talk about my parents, and it’s definitely easier looking at London than Liam.
“Is he really that handsome?” she demands.
“London,” Liam chides her from across the table. She doesn’t even acknowledge him, just keeps interrogating me.
“Is his hair as soft as it looks in pictures?” There’s a low, unashamedly fanatical tone in her voice this time, and despite myself, my lips twitch.
I nod as I take my fork and knife. “I don’t think I’ve ever combed his hair or... touched it for that matter, but it looks great in person.”
London smiles dreamily, and I look around to see everyone else at the table is eating already, so I dig right in and barely suppress a moan.
“It’s so good,” I tell Sam as soon as I swallow the first bite.
“I’m glad you like it.” She smiles warmly at me.
“Okay, my turn,” Larson, the second youngest I believe, says with wide eyes. “I think your other friends are far more impressive.Tell me everything about Adam Darnell,” he demands, or... begs? Maybe, I have no clue, but I don’t mind.
“Jesus Christ,” I hear Liam mutter, and see he’s frowning down at his plate.
I clear my throat, not knowing how to interpret Liam just now, but get back to Larson.
“Adam is the bravest person I’ve ever met.” I think that’s the most important thing I can say about him, and Larson’s smile and big eyes that are the same shade as Liam’s, but shine differently, tell me he wants more.
“He’s also the most talented football player ever,” he exaggerates, but I have to wince. “What? You don’t think he’s the best?” he asks, looking alarmed.
